The hunter stumbled into the motel room after fumbling with the keys. Hot, sticky liquid ran down his face in small streams, smudged where he had tried to suppress the bleeding. Every intake was a sharp jab in the ribs, forcing his breath to be slow and rough. His dirt crusted hands fumbled desperately at the buttons of his shirt, throwing it off and compacting it into a ball which he pressed against the gash on his forehead. His lips drew back in a pained wince, eyes closing briefly as he sat down on one of the two beds.

The room was stuffy with darkly colored furniture and fluffy red decor. It was an average, tacky room made for the soul purpose of simple survival. A mini fridge in the corner contained ice, and leftover pecan pie. Besides a microwave with popcorn and the television, it was nothing more then two, small beds.

He could feel the chills tremoring through his body as he fought to stay conscious. He couldn't tell Sam, which left two options. Bobby, who was halfway across the country, or Castiel; who couldn't be doing much of anything. His dry lips parted, another chill racking his body along with a wave of nausea. "Cas," the word came from his mouth in a gruff, desperate tone. He needed healing, and couldn't afford to go to the hospital..Not to mention he never took hospitals seriously after watching Dr. Sexy MD.

There was a pause, for what seemed like hours before a swishing sound startled him. He flinched, managing a scowl through his session of wincing. "You summoned me?" The familiar, gravely voice of the angel hung in the air stiffly. He could feel those sharp, ocean blue eyes raking over his face, but he couldn't gather the energy to look at him.

"Yes," he growled, gritting his teeth. "Heal me," he ordered weakly. Another pause before he felt the small rush of air as the angel stepped closer, then the warm, callused fingers brushing the skin of his forehead. Before he knew what hit him, the searing pain had vanished. The sickly hot trickle of blood had stopped. He couldn't feel it. He opened his eyes, sighing in relief. "Thanks, Cas," he muttered.

The angel nodded, giving him a last look over before deciding he was in good shape. Castiel turned, ready to leave when the voice spoke again. "..Hey Cas?" He watched as the blue-eyed man turned back to face him. A small frown creased his brow, making him look confused. Dean decided not to make him wait. "Why do you come back?" he asked softly. "After everything i've said to you.."

He could see the hesitation as he glanced away, lips pursing the normal way when he was thinking. "Because I owe you, Dean," came the simple reply.

Somehow, Dean wasn't taking that as an answer. He had suspicions, and his curiosity was starting to eat away at him. "You sure?" he asked casually, green eyes locked on the angel, waiting for a reaction.

"What are you implying?" he replied sharply, meeting his gaze. Dean could have sworn he saw panic flash across his face. "Just the fact your brothers, and Crowley are all convinved your in love with me," he pressed, brows rising slighly.

Castiel grunted. "I don't feel, Dean. You should know that."

"I just want the truth Cas, because after all the shit i've given you i'm surprised anyone would help me," he replied, growing slightly irritated he wasn't getting a straight answer. Cas was normally more open, and the fact he wasn't now was definitely telling him something.

"Does it really matter what they think, Dean? You helped me and i'm only repaying the favor. Is that too much for a friend to do?" His voice raised considerably, his dark eyes flashing dangerously.

He blinked, a bit taken aback. He normally wasn't as controlling either. "Yes, I think it matters," he said, brushing off his surprise dully.

The angel stared at him for awhile, before letting out an exasperated sigh. "Is it a crime now to.. develop feelings?" he finally spoke.

Dean snorted to himself internally. "I never said anything about it being bad-"

"Then why do you keep badgering me about it, Dean? I don't know what i'm feeling. I'm not a human, I can't always just explain myself," he snapped.

"Because your not the only one developing feelings, Cas. And not just as friends." Dean replied. "I don't give a rats ass that your an angel."

There was a long, drawn out pause in which the two stared at eachother in silence. Well, as silent as it can get with the couple next door going at it like there was no tomorrow.

Dean finally broke eye contact, letting out a sigh as he stood. He was a few inches taller then the angel. He crossed his arms over his bare chest, looking down at the obviously stained black and red carpet. "Sorry.. I shouldn't have said any-"

Before he could even finish, he was gone.

"Son of a bitch!"